“There was Frontenac,” repeated Tayoga.

St. Luc frowned at the insistence of the Onondaga upon an old wound, but the cloud passed swiftly.  In an instant the blue eyes were smiling once more.

“The memory of Frontenac shall not come between us,” he said.  “The heart of Onontio beats for the Hodenosaunee, and he has sent me to say so to the valiant League.  I bring you a belt, a great belt of peace.”

Dubois handed him a large knapsack and he took from it a beautiful belt of pure white wampum, uncommon in size, a full five feet in length, five inches wide, and covered with many thousands of beads, woven in symbolic figures.  He held it up and the eyes of the Onondaga glistened.

“It is a great belt, a belt of peace,” continued St. Luc.  “There is none nobler, and Onontio would send no other kind.  I give it to you, Tayoga.”

The young warrior drew back and his hands remained at his sides.

“I am Tayoga, of the clan of the Bear, of the nation Onondaga, of the great League of the Hodenosaunee,” he said, “but I am not yet a chief.  My years are too few.  It is a great matter of which you speak, St. Luc, and it must be laid before the fifty sachems of the allied tribes in the Long House.  The belt may be offered to them.  I cannot take it.”

The flitting cloud passed again over the face of St. Luc, but he did not allow any change to show in his manner.  He returned the splendid belt to Dubois, who folded it carefully and put it back in the great knapsack.

“Doubtless you are right, Tayoga,” he said.  “I shall go to the Long House with the belt, but meantime we thank you for the courtesy of yourself and your friends.  You have given us food when we were hungry, and a Frenchman does not forget.”

“The Onondagas keep the council fire in their valley, and the sachems will gather there,” said Tayoga.

“Where they will receive the belt of peace that I shall offer them,” said St. Luc.

The Onondaga was silent.  St. Luc, who had centered his attention upon Tayoga, now turned it to Robert.

“Mr. Lennox,” he said, “we dwell in a world of alarms, and I am French and you are English, or rather American, but I wish that you and I could remain friends.”

The frankness and obvious sincerity of his tone surprised Robert.  He knew now that he liked the man.  He felt that there was steel in his composition, and that upon occasion, and in the service to which he belonged, he could be hard and merciless, but the spirit seemed bright and gallant.

“I know nothing that will keep us from being friends,” replied the lad, although he knew well what the Frenchman meant.

“Nor do I,” said St. Luc.  “It was merely a casual reference to the changes that affect us all.  I shall come to Albany some day, Mr. Lennox.  It is an interesting town, though perhaps somewhat staid and sober.”

“If you come,” said Robert sincerely, “I hope I shall be there, and it would please me to have you as a guest.”